


Drift Away

by cherrytruck



Series: Falling for Uroboros [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Even as a ghost Birkin is a piece of crap, Gen, Hallucinations, M/M, Relationship Issues, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-29 22:17:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10145765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrytruck/pseuds/cherrytruck
Summary: The T-Virus in Wesker begins to give more unpredictable side effects including hallucinations and making him question what Uroboros will achieve.





	

Even the superior have their fallbacks sometimes.

It was initially a small price to pay for immortality. Headaches and pain were nothing medications couldn't keep at bay.

It is worse now. It feels as though his mortality is returning to him. It feels just as it did when he first died, and worse.

Still an easy solution to fix. He just needs to regularly inject his daily serum. He's not sure about the science behind it, but it works well enough for him not to care.

Nothing is foolproof however.

One night he is jolted into consciousness. He's on the floor, writhing in pain. He's not sure how he got here in the first place.

He isn't supposed to take the serum until the next eight hours. Perhaps it was administered poorly last time round. He tries to crawl to where the serum is stored, but his head is pounding and his vision blurs.

Even if it has been years since the incident, he still can’t shake off that stabbing pain in his chest, the feeling of his mind fading, the fear that he may not ever wake up again.

He tries to get up, but he falls. The room around him goes white. He doesn't know where he is anymore.

“Dear me, Albert. You've really fallen from grace, haven't you?”

The voice is faint, and familiar, but it's not his own. His head hurts too much to begin thinking whose it might be.

But when he sees the man in the white coat, he remembers. He wonders if he's just died to be seeing this person’s face.

“Birkin…” He's surprised he even remembers the name of his deceased colleague. “Why…”

“Oh, Albert.” Birkin's kneels down to bring himself closer to Wesker's level, letting the white cape sit on the ground. “The T-Virus...I think the reason it’s become unstable in your body is it can sense you're forgetting your origins.”

What does that even mean?

“You're becoming distant. You’ve clearly lost your passion for science. Our child, Albert. It's crying for you.”

Birkin is making no sense. It isn’t as if he is one to talk about understanding the consequences of being distant. The fact that Birkin is even here has no logic either, but despite his stupid attitude, at least for now his presence distracts somewhat from the physical pain he's in.

“Albert, you've really become an idiot over the years. I figured your ambitions were in the wrong priority when you quit your position in research, but I didn't actually expect you to become so simple-minded. Uroboros? New world? Superior DNA? Are you serious, Albert? Do you really think that's going to work? Has my absence caused you to lose your mind?”

It's not as if the G-Virus worked, so who is he to talk? He doesn't know how he even became friends with Birkin anymore. It's Birkin who was stupid. Birkin is dead.

_Birkin is dead._

He's hit such a low that he is letting a hallucination insult him, and he's just taking it.

He tries to get back into his knees, but it feels as if knives are piercing him all over.

“Albert, are you ignoring me? Well, you've done a good job of that over these years. I'm the reason you're still alive, and I've become a part of you ever since you injected yourself with the virus. But you don't think about me at all anymore, do you?”

He really wonders if he's actually landed in hell.

There is the faint vision of the room he was in. No, not yet. His time is still yet to come.

Forget the T-Virus. Forget Umbrella. _Forget Birkin._

He feels his heart beat violently and the room goes white again. He can't move at all.

A figure in a labcoat walks towards him. He can tell that isn't Birkin's footsteps however. He looks up. The figure is wearing sunglasses. It's his own face.

“Dr Birkin, the next batch of T-Virus samples are ready.”

“Excellent.” Birkin turns to the younger Albert, his face now less condescending. “I want you to inject this guy with some of that. He isn't doing too well. We have nothing to lose by testing it out on him.”

He feels as though these are familiar words. They feel like memories replaying in his head.

He stops questioning anything when the younger Albert approaches him and takes his arm to inject the substance.

“Hold still. It’ll just be a small, sharp scratch.”

~

When he comes to, he's on the floor where he lasts remembers he was before the silly hallucination began. There's also a discarded syringe near him. Perhaps he managed to administer the serum and then passed out.

He doesn't believe in an afterlife. What he saw must have been nothing but an extrapolation of memories coming to haunt him. An undocumented side effect of the instability of the T-Virus.

Even so, it has served as a jarring reminder of the past. A past where he was a different man. Now all that remains of that past is the T-Virus, and even that part of him is dying. It is clear why he needs Uroboros.

Birkin is dead. And the naive, young Albert is also dead.


End file.
